excessive cum

AI art "Cyndel Vale needs money 8 (ft. Captain Nemesis)"

25

Cyndel Vale needs money 8 (ft. Captain Nemesis)

AI art "Cyndel Vale needs money 7"

20

Cyndel Vale needs money 7

AI art '300 Thank you very much. (PokeGirls part 3)' with user description 'Part 3 from the PokeGirls for you. Enjoy them.'

30

300 Thank you very much. (PokeGirls part 3)

holo_the_wise_wolf

AI art "Cyndel Vale needs money (Remastered)"

21

Cyndel Vale needs money (Remastered)

AI art 'And your turn has come, gothic girl.'

20

And your turn has come, gothic girl.

AI art 'Danganronpa 3 Glass pt1' with user description 'Pt 1 of danganronpa 3 girls ❤️'

15

Danganronpa 3 Glass pt1

blackhairedstudent

AI art 'Cyndel Randoms' with user description 'Not every idea I had with Cyndel was as thought out as I hoped. Here's some of my random generations of her in various encounters, jobs, with her sister, Celest and with Cherry Bomb.'

23

Cyndel Randoms

AI art "Asahina Casting"

23

Asahina Casting

blackhairedstudent

AI art 'Aura Captured' with user description 'The snow crunched beneath my boots as I approached the tavern, a solitary beacon of warmth in this frozen wasteland. My violet hair whipped in the biting wind, and the **Scales of Obedience** at my hip rattled—a reminder of my absolute authority. I, Aura the Guillotine, did not fear these mortals. They were but insects whose lives were measured in the weight of their souls.
As I reached the door, an old, obese man blocked my path, his face a map of filth and scars. "You killed them all," he rasped. "My entire bloodline. I challenge you, Aura. A measure of souls." My pride was my undoing. I scanned his mana; it was pathetic. I could have ended him instantly, but I wanted to see the despair on his face when his own soul condemned him. I summoned the Scales, pouring my vast, ancient mana into my side. The scale tipped instantly toward me. But seconds before his mana touched the plate, he drained a shimmering vial.
It was a **Potion of Infinite Illusion**. It didn’t actually increase his power, but it tricked the magical logic of the scales, making his mana appear as a bottomless, infinite abyss for five crucial seconds. The balance slammed down on his side with the force of a falling mountain. Because the scale "saw" him as superior, its magic bound my very soul to his will.
"Silence," he commanded, his voice cold and flat. "Speak only when I tell you to. Only do what I want you to do."
He took me to his new home town, a place I destroyed 60 years ago, rebuilt by the child i dis not kill that time.. he ordered me to serve every one of them, and i Did... one after another, no resting.. some where big, big as monsters, their bodies made mine look small, After forty-eight hours of being used by every man in his village—my demonic body cruelly resetting my anatomy to a virgin state after every violation—he led me to a stone square. "Put your head and hands through here," he ordered, pointing to a heavy, stone-and-iron guillotine frame. "**Wait here in this position in silence until I return. And keep serving anyone who comes to use you.**"
He never came back.
I have been in this position for seven hundred years. My neck and wrists are locked into the frame, my spine permanently arched, my rear perpetually exposed to the whims of the kingdom that grew around my shackle. I have forgotten the sound of my own voice; the concept of speech has withered in my mind like a dead leaf. I have forgotten the taste of food and the warmth of a bed. Most importantly, I have never slept. My demonic stamina ensures I remain wide awake, forced to witness every second of my degradation through the centuries.
The square is never empty. I have become a living monument, a landmark of flesh and stone. Around the base of my pedestal, a permanent slum of forty hobos has taken root. They live in wretched huts built against my legs, treating my body as a communal hearth. While the city sleeps, they take turns fucking me all night long, their unwashed bodies a constant weight against my cold skin. During the day, travelers from across the world join the queue. Sometimes five or six men use me simultaneously—one at my mouth, others at my pussy and anus—clambering over each other to claim a piece of the monster.
My body is a cursed masterpiece of regeneration. It is a biological nightmare of rapid recovery. One second, a man withdraws and my ass is left **extremely gaped**, a dark, distended void pulsing from the trauma of his intrusion; in the very next second, the demonic magic surges through my tissue, sealing the opening until it is **virgin again**. I am a perpetual loop of destruction and restoration, a tight, "pure" vessel that is torn open by the next stranger only to reset before his seed even cools.
I no longer think of magic. The only thing that exists is the count. I have become a living abacus. One billion. One billion and ten. The number is the only thing I truly know. I watch the fashion of the men change and the seasons bleed into centuries. I am a hole in the center of the world, a silent vessel that has processed the seed of entire lineages. I am the first demon to ever feel the sting of a tear, a single drop of salt water that has carved a permanent track down my weathered face—a testament to a billion men and an eternity of silence.'

30

Aura Captured

blackhairedstudent

AI art "Tsunade Casting"

19

Tsunade Casting

blackhairedstudent

AI art "House of the Fallen - Chapter 3"

18

House of the Fallen - Chapter 3

AI art 'A night to remember' with user description 'The dormitory of Hope’s Peak Academy felt unusually cramped as Toko Fukawa sat hunched over her desk, her fingers twitching over the keys of her typewriter. The "Genocider" within was quiet for once, but Toko’s own neuroses were in full bloom. She let out a jagged sigh, turning her head to glare at Aoi Asahina, who was currently doing light stretches on a yoga mat nearby.
"H-Hey, Donut Girl," Toko stammered, her voice a mix of a rasp and a sneer. "I’m... I’m stuck. My next romance manuscript is as dry as a desert. I need inspiration. Real stories. Not that s-saccharine garbage you probably daydream about while eating your weight in sugar. Do you have any... ideas? Anything with actual heat?"
Aoi paused her stretch, her ponytail swaying as she looked at Toko with a surprisingly thoughtful expression. A slow, mischievous smile spread across her face—one that didn't quite match her usual bubbly persona. "Actually, Toko... I have a story. It’s not a 'romance' in the way you’d think, but it’s definitely an experience I’ll never forget."
Toko adjusted her glasses, her eyes narrowing. "Well? Spit it out. I don't have all day."
"It happened a few years ago," Aoi began, her voice dropping into a nostalgic hum. "I had this childhood friend—let’s call him Ken. We grew up together, and I used to sleep over at his house all the time when we were kids. Nothing ever happened back then; we were just buddies. But one weekend, he invited me over again. When I got there, I realized it wasn't just us. There were five other guys there—his friends from the basketball team. I thought it was a little strange at first, but they had ordered a mountain of pizza, and I was starving. We had a great time, laughing and eating until we were stuffed."
"P-Pizza? That’s your big lead-in?" Toko scoffed, though she was already leaning forward.
"After the food, we started playing Mario Kart," Aoi continued, ignoring the jab.I was a pro, Toko. I was beating everyone, race after race. I was so confident that I started craving donuts. That’s when one of the boys—this really tall, muscular guy his name is octavi—proposed a bet. He said, Hina, if you win the next course, we’ll all pitch in and buy you donuts every single week for an entire year. But... if you lose, everyone who beats you gets to do whatever they want to you for the rest of the night.'"
Toko’s breath hitched, her fingers hovering over her typewriter. "A-And you... you accepted?"
"I was so sure of myself," Aoi whispered, her eyes clouding with the memory. "But then we started the race. My heart was pounding. And for the first time in my life... I lost. I didn't just lose; I came in nearly last. Every single one of them beat me, except for Ken. The room went silent for a second, and then the atmosphere changed. It was like the air got ten degrees hotter."
"What did they do?" Toko rasped.
"The **Gangbang** started right there on the living room carpet," Aoi said, her voice trembling slightly. "They didn't waste a second. They swarmed me. It was a total sensory explosion. I was pinned down by twelve hands, and the first thing they went for were my **Boobs**. They were grabbing them, kneading them, treating them like prizes they had finally won. Then, they moved to the rest of me. I was subjected to a relentless **Fellatio** circuit. I was forced into a series of **Deepthroat** maneuvers, taking one after another until my jaw ached and my eyes watered. It was a continuous stream of heat."
Aoi took a sharp breath. "Then came the main event. Because there were so many of them, they decided to maximize my capacity. I was subjected to a **Double Penetration** that felt like it was rearranging my very soul. I had one guy in my pussy and another in my **Anus** at the same time. The girth of them... the way they moved in opposite rhythms... it stretched my frame until I thought I would break. I was screaming, Toko! I was **cummed** on and in so many times I lost count. My internal walls were pulsing, desperately trying to hold onto all of them at once. They used every hole I had, rotating with a tactical efficiency that left me in a dazed, white-out trance."
"A-And the end?" Toko whispered, her face beet-red.
"The finale was a total **Bukkake**," Aoi finished, her voice a dazed hum. "They lined up and unleashed their **cum** directly into my throat and across my face. It was a white tidal wave. Because they held my mouth shut to ensure every drop was delivered, the pressure forced the warm, white cream through my sinuses. I felt the heat of **cum** leaking from my **nose**, and a faint, trickling warmth even reached my **ears**. I was internally and externally flooded."
Toko sat in stunned silence for a long moment. "That’s... that’s a tragedy! You lost a whole year of donuts and your dignity because of a stupid game
Aoi looked up at Toko, her smile returning—only this time, it was sharp and knowing. "Oh, Toko you’re missing the point. I’m the best Mario Kart player I know. I lost on purpose.'

30

A night to remember

blackhairedstudent

AI art "Pokemon girls catching all that cum!!"

6

Pokemon girls catching all that cum!!

AI art 'Yor casting' with user description 'The evening air in the Forger apartment was heavy with the scent of herbal tea and the ticking of the wall clock. Yor sat on the edge of the velvet sofa, her fingers trembling as they traced the delicate floral pattern of her porcelain cup. She had been staring into the dark amber liquid for several minutes, her mind caught in the violent, messy transition between the "Thorn Princess" and the submissive wife of a psychiatrist. Finally, she took a shaky breath and looked toward Loid, who was reading a newspaper with his usual stoic composure.
"Loid," she started, her voice a soft, nervous whisper that barely carried across the room. "There is something I’ve been keeping from you. Regarding the 'city hall' assignment that kept me out all night... the kidnapping. I haven't told you the full story of what happened in that warehouse."
Loid set his newspaper down, his professional 'Twilight' mask immediately softening into that of the concerned, supportive husband. "You can tell me anything, Yor. Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone."
"I was undercover, tracking a ring of extremely dangerous men—a gang of rapists and human traffickers," Yor began, her eyes distant as she drifted back to the cold, damp concrete of the docks. "I allowed them to take me. It was the only way to find their base. When I woke up, I was in their warehouse, stripped of my dignity and suspended by my neck with a heavy silk cord. My toes could barely touch the floor, and every breath was a struggle. The leader—a man with cold, hungry eyes—was laughing. He kept saying how lucky they were to have caught someone so beautiful and 'innocent' like me."
She took a sharp breath, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the tea cup. "Because I was suspended and the cord was tied to a pressure-sensitive alarm, I couldn't use my strength to break free without revealing my skills and alerting the rest of the gang before the setup was ready. I had to endure it, Loid. They were relentless. They took turns, using my body in every way imaginable—orally, vaginally, and anal. They treated me like a mindless toy, laughing and mocking me while I was forced to hang there, struggling for air while they hammered into me. It was... intense. I felt every moment of it, the heat, the friction, and the sheer weight of their depravity."
Loid remained remarkably calm, his expression unreadable, though he reached out to place a reassuring hand on her knee.
"But it was a trap," Yor continued, a flicker of her 'Thorn Princess' steel returning to her gaze. "I had hidden a high-frequency locator deep inside my anus before the capture. I knew they would search my clothes and even my mouth, but they never checked there. The police arrived just as the leader was finishing his second turn. They were all arrested and sent to the high-security black site. My superiors told me... they won't be coming out alive. They are to be executed for their crimes against the state."
Yor looked at him, her face flushing a deep, painful crimson. "I'm so sorry, Loid. I had to let them do those things for the sake of the mission. I feel so ashamed as your wife, having been touched by such monsters."
Loid reached out, gently taking her hand and squeezing it firmly. "Yor, look at me. It’s okay. In this line of work—in high-stakes security and intelligence—sometimes the mission demands a physical sacrifice. You did what you had to do to catch those monsters and save countless other women from their fate. I don't judge you for it. In fact, I admire your commitment to the job."
Yor blinked, surprised by his easy, almost clinical acceptance of her ordeal.
"In fact," Loid said, his voice dropping slightly as he leaned back into the sofa, "if I’m being honest, I’ve had to do the same many times before we ever met. During my long-term assignments abroad, specifically in the years before I moved to Berlint, I had to sleep with and seduce almost every target's wife to get the intel the agency needed. It was a standard protocol for deep-cover operations. It was just a tool, Yor. A means to an end. It doesn't mean anything beyond the objective."
Yor’s eyes widened, her grip on her tea cup tightening until the porcelain groaned with a sharp *crick*. The soft, domestic atmosphere of the room shifted instantly. A dark, swirling aura of murderous jealousy began to radiate from her, though she kept her polite, practiced smile fixed on her face. Her pupils contracted into tiny points of red-hot focus.
"Oh?" Yor whispered, her voice trembling with a different kind of intensity than before. "Almost *every* target’s wife, Loid? And that was all... 'before we met'? I see... I suppose we both have a lot of very interesting 'work' history to discuss in much more detail later tonight."'

22

Yor casting

blackhairedstudent

AI art 'Rosalina Casting' with user description 'The campfire crackled softly between them, casting flickering orange shadows against the ancient ruins where they had made camp. Frieren was focused on a tattered grimoire, searching for a spell that supposedly removed moss from stone.
Fern sat opposite her, fastidiously polishing her staff. After a long silence, she looked up, her expression as stoic as ever.
"Mistress Frieren," Fern began, her voice clinical. "Do you remember the 'Church of the Eternal Font' we passed near the Auberst border? They offered a trial for mana expansion."
Frieren didn't look up. "Mana is built through decades of study, Fern. Gimmicks are useless."
"It wasn't a gimmick," Fern countered. "They told me that if a mage could remain in continuous, focused prayer for exactly three hours, their mana capacity would permanently expand. But there was a catch—the 'Testing of the Flesh.' The priests were permitted to do anything to break my concentration, provided they didn't use violence or magic."
Frieren finally closed her book, curious. "And you accepted?"
"I wanted to be stronger for you," Fern replied. "So, I entered the sanctum, knelt on the cold marble, and began the chant."
Fern took a deep breath, her hands tightening on her staff. She began to describe the ordeal with a detached, rhythmic cadence.
"The first hour was psychological, but then they began to touch. They removed my boots and used their tongues and soft feathers to lick and tickle my feet. It was an agonizing sensation, but I did not move. When they realized my spirit was firm, they became invasive. They stripped my robes. One priest knelt before me, forcing his member into my mouth for a deepthroat so intense I was gagging, my eyes watering from the pressure. I kept the prayer vibrating in my chest, even as he finished, his seed coating the back of my throat."
Fern’s voice remained flat, despite the harrowing detail. "Then came the physical intrusion. I was pushed onto my hands and knees. One priest entered me from behind while another took my front—a double penetration that felt like I was being torn apart. They were relentless, using their fingers to stimulate me while hammering into my body, trying to force a scream from my lips. They used my body as a vessel for their lust. Licking every inch of my skin, biting my ears, and eventually, several gathered for a bukkake. I felt the warm, sticky weight of their release hitting my face and hair. They even used my anal passage, a searing intrusion that made my breath hitch. But I remembered your lessons. I treated the sensations as nothing more than external noise."
Fern looked Frieren directly in the eyes. "For three hours, I was a statue. When the final bell chimed, they stopped. I stood up, cleaned myself with a cantrip, and walked out."
"And?" Frieren asked softly.
"I felt it," Fern said, a small ghost of a smile appearing. "A violent expansion. My mana capacity is significantly larger now. It was the most difficult training I have ever endured."
Frieren was quiet for a long time. Then, she reached out and patted Fern’s head with clumsy affection.
"You really are a pervert about magic, Fern," Frieren said with a hint of pride. "To go that far just for power... you’re starting to remind me of Master Flamme."
Fern huffed, her familiar pout returning. "It was a calculated decision, Mistress Frieren."
"If you say so," Frieren murmured, reopening her book. "But next time, ask me. I have a spell for mana growth that involves bitter herbs. It’s much less... messy."
"Now you tell me," Fern muttered, returning to her polishing as the secret finally settled in the quiet night air.'

20

Rosalina Casting

blackhairedstudent

AI art "Cowabunga!"

20

Cowabunga!

AI art 'Asahina in pool ❤️'

25

Asahina in pool ❤️

blackhairedstudent

AI art 'Miu & Himiko casting' with user description 'The workshop was thick with the scent of ozone, grease, and the frantic energy of Miu Iruma’s latest "inspiration." Miu was hunched over a workbench, her goggles pushed up onto her forehead, while Himiko Yumeno sat on a nearby crate, swinging her legs and looking exceptionally tired. The Ultimate Magician let out a long, dramatic sigh, her hat tipping forward over her eyes.
"Nyeh... Miu, why did you drag me all the way here? My mana is at critical levels. I need to go back to the dormitory and hibernate for at least three days," Himiko grumbled, her voice trailing off into a yawn.
Miu spun around, a manic glint in her eyes that usually signaled trouble for everyone else’s sanity. She slammed a wrench down on the table, making Himiko jump. "Shut it, you flat-chested magic-midget! Your mana isn't the only thing that’s dry, and I’ve got the perfect invention to fix your pathetic, boring-ass life!"
Himiko squinted. "If it involves a battery or a motor, I’m leaving."
"It’s better than a motor, you tiny virgin! It’s called 'Human-Induced Catharsis through Multi-Vessel Synchronized Intimacy'!" Miu struck a pose, her chest puffed out. "Basically, I found a guy. A real, high-quality specimen. Not one of those losers around here. A guy who actually knows how to handle a genius like me—and he’s got enough energy left over to wake up your dormant lady-parts!"
Himiko blinked slowly, the implication finally sinking in. "A... threesome? Miu, that sounds like a lot of work. That’s double the movement. My MP can’t handle that kind of cardio."
"Listen to me, you lazy brat!" Miu stomped over, looming over the smaller girl. "Think about it! You’re always talking about your 'magic' and your 'illusions,' but when was the last time you felt something real? Something that makes your toes curl and your brain turn into mush? I’m talking about a world-class experience! I’ve already done the blueprints. With me taking the lead and him providing the... raw materials, you can just lie there and let the 'magic' happen to you for once!"
Himiko tilted her head, her expression shifting from annoyance to a faint, curious glimmer. "Just... lying there? No effort required?"
"Exactly!" Miu cackled, her bravado reaching a fever pitch. "I’ll be the main course, and you can be the adorable little side dish that gets absolutely devoured! Imagine it: four hands roaming over you, two sets of lips, and a guy who’s so big and so skilled that he’ll make your 'spells' look like cheap birthday party tricks! I need a partner for this, Himiko! Someone who won't try to outshine my glorious beauty but can still provide the right... aesthetic contrast!"
"You're just saying you want someone to help you handle him because you're actually a coward, aren't you?" Himiko muttered.
Miu’s face turned bright red, her aggressive posture collapsing into a flustered, stuttering mess. "W-Who are you calling a coward?! I’m the Golden Girl! The Ultimate Inventor! I just... I thought it would be a waste of a perfectly good stallion if I didn't share! Plus, wouldn't it be a great story? The Mage and the Genius, conquered by a commoner? It’s poetic! It’s despair-inducing! It’s... it’s hot, okay?!"
Himiko looked at her fingernails, considering the proposition. The idea of being the center of that much attention without having to actually perform a stage show was becoming strangely appealing. "And he’s... nice?"
"He’s a goddamn beast, Himiko! I’ve seen pictures! He’s got enough 'mana' to power a small city!" Miu leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial stage-whisper. "He wants to see us both. He wants to see you in that ridiculous hat while he takes me from behind, and then he wants to switch. He wants to explore every inch of your 'mysterious' body while I’m right there, cheering him on and joining in. It’ll be a symphony of filth!"
Himiko let out a small, soft hum. "Nyeh... I suppose if it's for the sake of exploring new types of energy... and if you promise I don't have to do any of the heavy lifting..."
"YES!" Miu pumped her fist into the air, her vulgar confidence returning in an instant. "That’s the spirit, you little witch! We’re gonna break that guy, and he’s gonna break us right back! I’ve got the lubricants, the restraints, and the stamina-boosting supplements all ready to go! Get your hat, Himiko! We’re going on a 'magical' journey that’s gonna leave you needing a wheelchair by morning!"
Himiko stood up slowly, adjusting her cape. "I’ll go. But if I run out of MP halfway through, I’m taking a nap right there on the bed."
"Fine by me!" Miu laughed, grabbing Himiko by the arm and dragging her toward the door. "Just wait until you see the size of this guy! You’re gonna think it’s a real-life summoning circle!"
As they left the workshop, Miu’s loud, boastful claims about their upcoming "experiment" echoed through the halls, leaving Himiko to simply follow along, her heart beating just a little bit faster at the thought of the "mana" she was about to encounter.'

27

Miu & Himiko casting

blackhairedstudent

AI art 'Covered' for prompt: 'Photorealistic, closeup, portrait, naked brunette, large breasts, lying on back, fucked silly, looking at viewer, facial, excessive cum, cum on face, cum in mouth, from above, massive dark-skinned penis, cumshot'

4

Covered

AI art "The price of Gold"

10

The price of Gold

blackhairedstudent

Sprache

Ansicht

Rasterbilder

Prompt-Autovervollständigung

Inhaltsfilter

Hilfe & Support

Tägliches Beanspruchungssymbol: Glas ist leer

Tägliche Belohnung

Heute

W

+3

T

+4

F

+5

S

+6

S

+7

M

+8

T

+9

Täglich einlösen für Bonus-Credits!

Tägliches Beanspruchungssymbol: ein Eimer voller Gold

Nachfüll-Credits

Quests-Symbol

Schließe Quests ab, um Credits zu verdienen